Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Ron had been rushed to Saint Mungo's immediately. Hermione sat at his side, where he was laying on the hospital bed. Hermione had several bald spots on her head, and claw marks on her face, but it wasn't nearly as bad as Ron's injuries.
She stared at the long, deep, bloody gashes on his arms and wrists, and her eyes misted over. She found it almost impossible that he hadn't died. It was a miracle. He had lost a dangerous amount of blood.
"Ron, I know I should have told you, about what happened." Hermione took his cold, pasty white hand. "But I was going through the pain at that moment, and I didn't want to talk to anyone, or see anyone. I can understand why you cut your wrists. It was my idea in the first place. It's my fault! I shouldn't, I really shouldn't have had the razor! Then you wouldn't have been able to do this to yourself!" Hermione's voice cracked, and she looked away. Ron said nothing.
"Why did Harry do this? Well, I can answer that. That was my fault, too! I made things rougher for him, all because I was selfish and dumped him. I should have known better than to let him go, at a time like this!" She looked back towards Ron, who now had a single tear making its way down his cheek. She squeezed his hand.
"I know you miss Harry. Everyone does. If I could just fucking go back in time! I wouldn't dump him! I, wouldn't do that to him"- And she broke down and began crying. Ron stared at her.
"It's not your fault." Hermione looked up. Ron had finally spoken, and he was looking right at her. She swallowed.
"You just don't know."
"Yes I do. Harry didn't do this because of you. It was bound to happen sooner or later! You should've seen the things he would write. God! How he would write! He'd scribble in this little notebook thing of his. I looked through it the other night, and some of the things he would write in there. How they would make my bones chill over." Hermione narrowed her eyes.
"You mean you sort of knew all along, and you never told me?'
"I didn't know! There were just, clues! And I didn't want to worry you about anything else, and make everything worse!" Ron stammered, sitting up painfully. Hermione shook her head.
"Why is this happening? Harry can't be known anymore as 'The Boy Who Lived'! Now he'll just be known for committing suicide of a balcony window." Her head hung low, and Ron sighed.
"Yeah. Can you believe you and me almost did something that stupid too?" Hermione stared at him.
"I know, it was so close. I miss him. I wish he would've changed his mind at the last second." Little did they know, he had.
*
[A/N: How was that? So what does that mean? Harry is actually alive? You'll just have to wait and see! Cliffhanger!]
Ron had been rushed to Saint Mungo's immediately. Hermione sat at his side, where he was laying on the hospital bed. Hermione had several bald spots on her head, and claw marks on her face, but it wasn't nearly as bad as Ron's injuries.
She stared at the long, deep, bloody gashes on his arms and wrists, and her eyes misted over. She found it almost impossible that he hadn't died. It was a miracle. He had lost a dangerous amount of blood.
"Ron, I know I should have told you, about what happened." Hermione took his cold, pasty white hand. "But I was going through the pain at that moment, and I didn't want to talk to anyone, or see anyone. I can understand why you cut your wrists. It was my idea in the first place. It's my fault! I shouldn't, I really shouldn't have had the razor! Then you wouldn't have been able to do this to yourself!" Hermione's voice cracked, and she looked away. Ron said nothing.
"Why did Harry do this? Well, I can answer that. That was my fault, too! I made things rougher for him, all because I was selfish and dumped him. I should have known better than to let him go, at a time like this!" She looked back towards Ron, who now had a single tear making its way down his cheek. She squeezed his hand.
"I know you miss Harry. Everyone does. If I could just fucking go back in time! I wouldn't dump him! I, wouldn't do that to him"- And she broke down and began crying. Ron stared at her.
"It's not your fault." Hermione looked up. Ron had finally spoken, and he was looking right at her. She swallowed.
"You just don't know."
"Yes I do. Harry didn't do this because of you. It was bound to happen sooner or later! You should've seen the things he would write. God! How he would write! He'd scribble in this little notebook thing of his. I looked through it the other night, and some of the things he would write in there. How they would make my bones chill over." Hermione narrowed her eyes.
"You mean you sort of knew all along, and you never told me?'
"I didn't know! There were just, clues! And I didn't want to worry you about anything else, and make everything worse!" Ron stammered, sitting up painfully. Hermione shook her head.
"Why is this happening? Harry can't be known anymore as 'The Boy Who Lived'! Now he'll just be known for committing suicide of a balcony window." Her head hung low, and Ron sighed.
"Yeah. Can you believe you and me almost did something that stupid too?" Hermione stared at him.
"I know, it was so close. I miss him. I wish he would've changed his mind at the last second." Little did they know, he had.
*
[A/N: How was that? So what does that mean? Harry is actually alive? You'll just have to wait and see! Cliffhanger!]